Torture Yourself
by alphayamergo
Summary: Max is torturing herself, and it seems only Dylan can stop her.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Maximum Ride.**

It was the anniversary of Fang leaving, and there was no way in hell that the flock was forcing me out of my bedroom.

Currently, I was on the bed, browsing the computer he had left behind. He had so much trash on there, lots that I didn't have the heart to delete. My fingertips barely skimmed the mouse pad, but it seemed to pick up the movement anyway. My eyes kept going back to one file. _The_ letter.

I clicked it. The letter came up on the screen. "_Dear Max…_" I read aloud, allowing myself to reread it for the first time since the day I found it. It hurt, but I kept going. I wasn't backing out now.

There was a knock on there door, and I almost felt relieved. If someone was here, I wouldn't relive the memories. "Come in," I called. I didn't move from my position as Dylan came in, though I moved to put the top of the laptop down. He moved across the room swiftly, sitting down beside me on my bed. He beat me, reaching me before I closed the lap top.

"What are you reading?" he asked, only a second before he recognised the words on the page. He looked at me with wide eyes, looking almost frustrated. "Don't tell me you're wasting your time in bed today because of him."

"Okay," I said with a shrug. "I'm not wasting my time in bed today because I'm thinking of Fang." My voice sounded weak, and I was certain he would pick it up. He'd learnt a lot about me in the past year. I smiled at him sheepishly as he frowned at me.

"Max," he sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "Why do you torture yourself like this?" His blond hair fell back into place as soon as his hand was gone, almost as if he hadn't done the frustrated movement. I watched him, trying to make it look like I wasn't staring.

"I'm not torturing myself," I told him obstinately. He looked at me with disbelieving eyes, as if he could see right through me. For a moment, I thought he could. "Dylan, I'm not," I insisted.

"Max," he groaned, "stop being so stubborn." I glared at him, but before I cold reply or even react, he leaned forwards and pressed his lips to mine. I froze, to surprised to do anything, then my lips were working with his, and my arms were wrapping around his neck - .

No. I couldn't. Surely I couldn't! I pulled away, staring at him. He stared back, looking as surprised as I felt that I had actually reacted to his kiss. "What was that?" I whispered, voice sounding hoarse and quiet in the silence.

He smiled wryly. "It was a kiss, don't you know?" he replied. I grinned back at him suddenly, and pulled him back to me, despite myself. My lips brushed his, barely touching, then I kissed him harder. All thoughts of Fang seemed to disappear from my mind as Dylan kissed back as forcefully as I was kissing him. My mind was too caught up in memorizing Dylan's lips, committing the feeling of my arms around his neck to memory.

A knock on the door sounded, and we broke apart hurriedly. Nudge's head poked in. "There you are!" she exclaimed.

Angel hurried after her. "I'm sorry," she apologized. "I tried to stop her from coming in!" She looked flustered, and I pictured her running after Nudge, trying to tell her that she couldn't come in for a very good reason, though not wanting to say what – probably wanting me to admit to the flock what had happened.

"We were looking for you two – we want to go for a fly, and wanted you guys to come," Nudge broke in. She grinned at us, and I nodded.

"Sure," Dylan agreed easily. He stood up as the two girls scurried out of the room, both grinning from ear to ear. "Are you coming, madam?" he asked in a fake French accent. He held his hand out to me, and I took it, laughing.

We unfurled our wings, though not completely because they wouldn't fit. "Race you," I said, and pressed my lips to his cheek. He relaxed slightly, going to put his arms around me, but I broke away laughing, leaping into the air. He raced after me.

"Cheater," Dylan accused once we were both in the air. He glared at me playfully, and I noticed that he was getting much better at flying.

"You love me for it," I teased in a light-hearted voice. He grinned at me, and I beamed back.

**A/n: Hey, I'm probably not going to get many people reading this (there's Dax! Oh the horror!) but what the hey. I had fun writing it.**


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